We're Not Like the Others
by Minastara
Summary: Takes places six weeks after 'A Gathering Storm'. Eric can feel the boundaries of his mind breaking and with Shelly gone there is nothing to keep the Crow at bay. But when someone kidnaps a woman and her child, can Eric find a new purpose? ED Slash
1. An Intuition

**We're Not Like the Others**

**By Minastara**

_Italics_ – past events or memories

'_Italics'_ – thoughts

**_BoldItalics_** – Eric's visions

**Chapter 1: An Intuition **

He felt like he was losing his mind. As he sat there, looking at the broken window, in an apartment filled with broken dreams. He couldn't feel her anymore. He knew that her spirit must have moved on, leaving him stuck alone in this plane.

He also knew that she didn't have a choice in the matter. Shelly would not leave him. Ever since Shelly came back and returned the Crow to his body, he has felt this emptiness. A hollow feeling where Shelly's spirit was always with him. As he strummed the cords of his guitar, he poured his sadness into it.

"That's some depressing stuff you got there, Eric," Sarah said as she came to sit next to her morose friend.

"If you haven't noticed, my whole situation is depressing," he said, never looking up from his playing. "What do you want, Sarah?"

"Nothing. Just wondering if you wanted to go to the movies with me. Not like last time! It's PG-13, I swear," she quickly explained.

"Sorry, Sarah. Maybe some other time," he said, still not looking up from his playing.

"What is up with you, man!" she yelled, venting her frustration. Eric finally stopped and looked up from his guitar.

"Nothing is going on, Sarah. What makes you think that?" he asked, setting his guitar on its stand and went to gaze out the window.

"You've been acting down right weird, even for you. I mean you haven't left this loft in _two months_, Eric! Everybody's worried."

Turning to look at the young girl, with a raised eyebrow, Eric asked, "Oh, yeah, who?"

"Shea, me, even Daryl. We're all worried about you," she responded. Eric returned to looking out of the window, his back turned to Sarah.

"I think you should go back to school, Sarah. Thank you for coming to check on me, but I'm fine."

"No, you're not! Just because Shelly is gone, doesn't mean you should waste your life away. Shelly wouldn't—"

"Sarah! Leave!" he shouted, harshly, leaving no room for her to mistake his command. At first, he thought she would argue with, but then he heard the shifting sound of a backpack and skateboard.

With a quiet 'Fine, then,' and a door slam, Sarah was gone. Exhaling a sigh of relief, Eric looked down at the darken fingernails and knew that the Crow part of him was close to the surface. That part of him that fed on emotions like anger, despair, and channeled it into violence, a weapon.

It wasn't the fact that Sarah had mentioned Shelly that had brought forth the Crow in him. No, it was the fact that Sarah was right.

Something _was_ wrong with him and it was facing him in the mirror. The Crow was becoming uncontrollable. With Shelly gone, the Crow was coming through more often. That was the real reason he had cut himself off from those around him. The tiniest burst of anger seemed to set it off. He was afraid, afraid of what he might do to the one who incurred his anger and he couldn't regain control in time. This brought to mind his little visit from the Skull Cowboy just three weeks ago.

* * *

_The sound of bones rattling was the only warning Eric got before the Skull Cowboy, emissary for the other side, stepped forth out of nothing. _

"_How's it going, brother? All's well I hope," the dark man asked with the ever-present smile on his face. _

"_You know damn well everything's not okay. Where is Shelly, Skull Cowboy?" a Crow possessed Draven grabbed the man by the front of his dark coat._

"_Shelly's gone, man. She made a deal. To save your birdie hide, she had to stop waiting in the in-between," Skull Cowboy explained. He felt the hands loosen from his jacket and watched the Crow persona give way to the man that was Eric Draven. Eric dropped to his knees, as if the weight of such knowledge was too much for him to bear._

"_Wha-what? She's gone?" he stuttered. _

"_Sorry, man. That was the deal. And as I see it, you have two choices. One," he flicked up one of the skulls on his bracelet. "you can stay here on this mortal coil and cause all kind-s-s-s-s of mischief when you crack." He flicked up another skull from his bracelet, "Or two: find another reason to remain in control, reconnect." When he received silence at his suggestion, he shrugged. "Fine, then. It's your soul, but I must ask: Who do you think the first victims will be?" He turned around, walking towards the door. Eric thought about that for a second. It was easy to picture the destruction and death the Crow could visit upon others. It thrived on the discord, and just to taunt him, it would go after the people he cared about. Sarah…Shea…Albrecht…_

"_How do I do it? How do I reconnect?" Eric asked, his voice softened by this revelation._

"_You're a smart boy. I'm sure you'll figure it out," Skull Cowboy said without turning back to Draven. "Now, I must go. Lots of souls to check on. And Eric, tick-tock, my brother, tick-tock." His voice fades and with the rattling of bones, he vanishes, leaving Eric once again alone in his thoughts._

* * *

And here he was three weeks later still with no clue as to how to stop the Crow from taking over completely. He had no idea how to 'reconnect' as the Skull Cowboy had suggested and he had just made a mess of things with Sarah. He knew she was only trying to help, but he knew there was nothing she could do.

'_As soon as this is squared away, I'll make it up to her,'_ he thought. Just then his spirit guide, his crow, cawed at him, dropping something onto the dirty floor. Eric knelt down and saw that it was a small earring. The bird cawed at him again and Eric picked it up. As soon as he did, his mind was assaulted by various images and emotions.

**_Masked men, there were two, pushed their way into a house. The first thing Eric sensed was the woman's fear as she struggled with the men. A man ran from another room and tried to stop them. One of the masked men shot him. The woman screams. The man with the gun holsters it and tells the other man to take her to the car. The other man knocked the woman out and drags her to the car, as commanded. The vision stops as the woman's earring fell to the ground._**

Eric jerks out of the vision and looks at the crow. The crow caws once more and then flies out of the window. Eric grabs his jacket, and heads outside, making his way to his bike. _'Perhaps Sarah was right. Maybe getting out is just what the doctor ordered.'_

* * *

To be continued… 


	2. Confusion

**We're Not Like the Others**

**By Minastara**

_Italics_ – past events or memories

'_Italics'_ – thoughts

**_BoldItalics_** – Eric's visions

**Chapter 2: Confusion**

There were times that Daryl Albrecht, detective at Port Columbia PD, hated his job. He was currently walking through a crime scene that was one the home of Mr. and Mrs. Jacob Cole. Mister Cole was on his way to the hospital, though his prospects were bleak. There were signs of a struggle, but no sign of Mrs. Cole or their two-year-old daughter, Krissy. CSU had already gone through the place, finding nothing, but a single shell. Undoubtedly from the gun that shot Jacob Cole. _'But why kill the man, but take the woman and little girl?'_ Albrecht thought as he took a final walkthrough. Something didn't feel right about this, and the clock was ticking.

Suddenly, Daryl felt a presence behind him. "I don't know what's scarier, you doing that or that I'm starting to get use to it," Daryl said, turning to see his friend, Eric Draven, standing by the stairwell. "What are you doing here, man? If someone —" Albrecht started.

Draven nodded toward the living room window to the crow perched on the mailbox. "Bird brought me. Have you been able to get any clues about where they took the woman?" Eric asked, looking around the room.

"How do you —" he stopped himself. Sometimes Albrecht forgot that there was more to his friend than a handsome face. "None, and to make matters worse the kid is missing too," he said, answering his friend's question. "Can you give me a description of the people that took them?" he asked, taking out his notepad.

Eric just shook his head. "There were two of them. I would guess men from the height and muscle. Both were about 5'11." He watched as Daryl wrote down all that told him.

"Anything else?" Albrecht asked. Eric shrugged. "Other than the woman was scared out of her mind? No." Albrecht was about to ask more when he heard the front door slam shut.

"Detective Albrecht?" Daryl looked to where he'd last seen Draven. Seeing no sign of him, Daryl responded, "In here!"

In walked, a man in a very sharp suit. "Who are you?" Daryl asked. The man held up a badge and introduced himself as Federal Agent Donovan. Daryl inspected the badge and then asked, "What's the FBI got to do with this?" Handing the badge back, Daryl watched as the man place it back in his coat.

"I'm afraid that's classified information, Detective. I'm going to need everything your lab took from here sent to our office." Donovan handed Albrecht a card with the address for the local F.B.I. office. Deciding that cooperation was best for now, Albrecht said, "Sure, no problem."

Seeing that the agent no longer seemed interested in him, Daryl made his way to the door. As he walked to his car, one thought went through him. _'What the hell were the feds doing here?' _Once he was in his car, he sat for a moment to ponder that very question.

"What are the F.B.I. doing here?" Eric said from the backseat, unknowingly echoing his companion's earlier thoughts, and for once not startling Albrecht.

"The only thing I can think of is that Mister and Mrs. Cole aren't just random victims. I'm gonna head back to the station and see what I can dig up on them," he said. When he didn't receive a response, he thought his companion gone. Just as he was about to start the car, he readjusted his rearview mirror and Draven was in the back still looking at the house.

Evidently, something was on Draven's mind if he was dust in the wind by now. "How have you been, Draven? This is the first time you've been out of that apartment of yours in weeks."

"Same thing, different day, Albrecht. The crow came to me, brought me the missing woman's earring. I sensed so much sadness and fear from her," he tilted his head, thinking of what he gleamed. "Though, it was more for her child than for herself."

"That didn't answer my question, Eric. How are _you_ doing?" he asked again. He remembered how the Crow had been out of control, but Draven had somehow gotten him back. With the realization that Shelly was gone, Eric Draven retreated to the solitude of his loft. That was the last time he'd seen Draven, a broken man.

Turning to look at Albrecht through the mirror, Draven replied, "Okay, I guess. I'm just trying out some friendly advice, hoping to find a cause."

"A cause?" Albrecht said, looking at the back to the house.

"Nothing. See you later, Albrecht." Just like that, he was gone. All Daryl could do was shake his head. Starting the car, he navigated his way back to the station.

— 8 —

In an apartment building elsewhere in Port Columbia, a woman woke. She tried to see where she was, but the edges around her vision were still blurry. Slowly, the blurriness alleviated and she managed a good look around. Her surroundings were unfamiliar to her. This place was some type of apartment or at least it used to be, if the broken television and torn couch were any indication.

She started to stretch her arms to ease the soreness in them, but something stopped her. She tried again, but yielded the same result. Her panic began to rise when she realized her arms were tied to a chair. Her legs were also tied to the chair. _'How did this happen?'_ she questioned herself. She then remembered the men breaking through the door, shooting Jacob and Krissy screaming... _'Krissy!'_ She looked around frantically, hoping against hope that her daughter wasn't in this place.

She breathed a tiny sigh of relief when she didn't see a trace of her little girl. She began to try to get loose of her bonds. Hearing a door close, she froze. A man walked into the room. He was a very muscular man, his low haircut and confident stance let her know that he was a professional. He was still a thug, but a professional one.

"Finally up, huh?" he stated.

"If you don't let me go, I'm gonna scream my head off until someone calls the police," she said defiantly.

"Yes, you could do that, but I'm sure you wouldn't want your daughter caught up in the crossfire that is bound to happen if the police arrive." He turned and called out to someone in the next room to bring the girl out. The woman's heart froze in her chest when she saw another man — a man of similar build as the first, though obviously not in charge — come into the room with her daughter in his arms.

From what she could see, the child appeared unhurt. In fact, the girl seemed content to suck on the small lollipop while in a stranger's arms. Realizing that they held all the cards, she asked, defeated "What do you want with me?"

"Me? I don't want anything from you. The family, though, that's a different story."

'_The family...'_ She knew this was bad.

"I see I finally have your attention. Now you're gonna to be very quiet and do everything I tell you. If you do, perhaps we'll dump this cutie at the next police station and let the cops deal with her. If not, you know what the family will do with her. Do we having an understanding?" He waited for her to nod, her head down in despair, before nodding to his associate to take the child back out of the room. He walked over to stand in front of her.

He knelt down and raised her head until he was looking into her eyes. The slow smile that appeared on his face sent chills down the woman's spine. "The boss is going to be extremely pleased to see you again, Sonya."

— 8 —

Draven followed his spirit guide as it led him to where he needed to be. Though to be honest with himself, he wasn't really paying attention. He just let his instincts take the lead, which left him to his thoughts.

He hadn't gotten anything new from being at the house. He began to wonder if perhaps his power had once again deserted him, but since the crow was with him, it was unlikely. The best possible scenario was that there wasn't anything that would help him at the house, so here he was once again following his crow. He stopped his motorcycle outside a hospital. He still had no idea why he was there. Then, he heard a sharp caw. He looked up to see his crow, perched in front of a third-story window.

He went inside, the smell of antiseptic hitting him as he entered. He headed for the elevators and once inside, he pushed the button for the third floor. Once the door opened, he headed to where he felt the pull of the bird. He walked pass the nurse's station, seeing the police guard talking up a nurse.

He didn't hesitate as he walked into the room, softly closing the door behind him. He waited a moment to see if he'd been noticed. When he heard no footsteps, he breathed out a sigh, turned, and walked towards the bed.

Lying there was the man he'd seen in his earlier vision, the man shot by the kidnappers. Hearing a caw, Eric looked up to see his bird on the window sill. Once the bird saw that it'd been noticed, it flew off; to where Eric had no clue. He laid his fingers on the man's hand, being careful of the tubing.

**_The man dressed in a bullet-proof vest that said FBI on it, gun drawn, and rushing into a building._** The vision then shifted. **_A woman came in and kissed the man. The woman pulled back to reveal…_ **The shock tore Eric from the vision, as he dropped the badge back onto the bed. _'Sonya!'_ The woman kidnapped was Sonya. Though, the woman in his earlier vision had straight black hair and glass over her eyes, it was still Sonya.

The fact that she was suppose to be under federal protection was what kept him from seeing the resemblance. The man in the bed was more than likely her cover and guard. Then, Eric remembered the kiss. _'Perhaps also something more...'_ Having the information he came for, Eric carefully sneaked back out of the room and made his way back to his back, dialing his phone along the way.

— 8 —

Daryl was tired. This newest case was already driving him crazy. The Feds weren't letting him anywhere near the shot victim, Jacob Cole, so his investigation was stalled. Unless Draven could pull something out of his bag, he'd have no choice but to hand it off to the Feds.

As if his thoughts had summoned it, the phone rang. "Albrecht."

"He's FBI," a familiar voiced sounded over the phone. "Who, Draven?"

"The man that got shot, Jacob Cole. He was suppose to protect the woman, his witness," Eric explained.

"Alright, who's the witness?" Daryl asked, taking up a pen, ready to jolt down any information Draven had.

"Not over the phone. Can you meet me at the Blackout?" Eric asked. Daryl put the pen down and replied, "Sure. I'll be there by 1:30." Daryl took the audible click of the phone disconnecting to mean Draven would be there. _'Well, that was no stranger than usual,'_ he mused. Checking his watch, he noticed that he had plenty of time to meet up with Draven.

Draven. Now, that was a name he didn't expect to hear uttered on one of his cases, at least not recently. Eric had been shut up in that loft ever since that thing with Balsom and the Lazarus group, ever since Shelly Webster had left. He had tried to get Eric to talk about it, but all he would say was that she was gone and that it was all his fault. Sarah and Shea had also tried, but there seemed to be nothing that could snap him out of it.

Maybe the fact that Draven was back appearing at his crime scenes meant he's back to his normal — well, normal as applied to Eric Draven — self.

"Albrecht, my office now!" bellowed Captain Vincennes, knocking Daryl out of his thoughts. Daryl got up from his desk with a sense of dread. Vincennes bellowing before the lunch hour was up never bode well for anyone on the receiving end, naming him. Daryl walked through the door that his captain held open for him, stood before his desk, and waited for the door slam he knew was coming.

He wasn't disappointed.

After the door slam, Vincennes made his way to his chair on the other side of his desk and sat down. "Albrecht, please tell me why the hell the Feds are dogging me about evidence from the shoot and kidnap this morning?" Vincennes asked, though Daryl knew that he had better give his captain an answer he liked.

"Because someone screwed up. One of their own got shot and their witness is missing, sir."

Vincennes leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, said, "How do you know that, Albrecht? I spent a half-hour on the phone and couldn't get that much out of them."

"One of my CIs told me, sir," Albrecht replied, inwardly wincing as soon as the words left his mouth. _'Vincennes is not going to like the fact that the informant is Draven,'_ he thought and by the suspicious shift in his captain's eyes, he was right.

"If the CI is Eric Draven, you're off the case, Albrecht," Vincennes stated.

"But, sir—"

"No, Daryl. Draven dragged this department through the mud once. I'll be damned if I let it happen again. And unless you like walking a beat, you won't have anything to do with him either," Vincennes said, hoping to knocked some sense into his friend.

"With all due respect, sir, that's not gonna happen; not this case," Albrecht replied, determined. He didn't want to disobey orders, but there was more involved than just his career.

"What?" Vincennes asked, shocked that Daryl Albrecht would openly disobey a direct order.

"Look, captain, Draven is good at what he does and gets fast results, which we need, especially since there's a kid also missing," Daryl reasoned, trying to appeal to the father side of his captain. There was silence as Vincennes considered what his detective had said. The time seemed to drag on for Daryl as he waited for his captain's answer.

"Any evidence you find, make sure to turn over to the Feds. Now, get out of my office." Daryl moved to do just that. His hand was on the doorknob when his captain spoke again. "And, Albrecht, if I physically see or hear Eric Draven anywhere near this case, you'll be back to walking a beat so fast it'll make your head spin."

"Yes, sir." Daryl replied, exiting the office as quickly as he could. Once the door was closed behind him, Daryl couldn't help, but smile. His captain had basically told him to work with Draven. Speaking of which, Daryl took a look at his watch. _'1:11…If I run the siren half-way, I can meet Eric on time.'_ He quickly grabbed his coat from his des and all but ran out of the station door to his car.

Unbeknownst to Daryl Albrecht, a figure leaning against the stationhouse watched him. He dark skin and dark clothes should have made him look suspicious on such a sunny, hot day, instead no one seemed to notice him. As the detective drove away, the figure jiggled the skull bracelet in his hand. _'This is going to be messy,'_ he thought, jiggling the bracelet again. He turned and started walking down the street, vanishing into the crowd and from this world.

— 8 —

End of Chapter 2!

I'm so sorry for the long wait. This semester has been a killer. I would like to thank Seventh Night and Goth Child of Zyon for reviewing and all those that read, but didn't review.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter and I promise that the next chapter will be a lot more interesting!

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all!

Also please visit my livejournal for any updates on any of my stories (you can find the link in my profile). I will normally update there first. Also you will find many recommendations for all kinds of slash stories, but a bit of warning, those stories are normally very long (over 15, 000 words). So beware. ; - )

Later!


	3. The Edge of Sanity

**We're Not Like the Others**

**By Minastara (see profile for email contact or review)  
**

_Italics_ – past events or memories

'_Italics'_ – thoughts

_**Bold Italics**_ – Eric's visions

**Chapter 3: The Edge of Sanity**

The Blackout was a quiet place to meet up with Albrecht, or at least it was now. During the daylight hours, it was just a building with a few people going in and out, but once the sun goes down it became the hottest club in Port Columbia. This place held a lot of memories for Eric, both good and bad. This was the place he'd first met Shelly. This was the place where he'd defeated Top Dollar and rescued Sarah. It was also the place his friend and boss, India, was murdered in front of his eyes by a psychotic Top Dollar. At the same time, it was also the place Top Dollar defeated him.

Yes, the Blackout with its concrete floors and black walls held many memories for him. Eric continued shifting through his memories until the _clank_ of the door closing hadn't signaled the arrival of Daryl Albrecht. "You're late," Eric said, before turning to look at the detective.

Daryl looked harried and slightly irritated. "You can thank Vincennes for that. He called me into his office about this case and nearly threw me off it when he heard that you were my CI," Daryl explained.

Eric lifted a brow at that. "Nearly? I'm surprised he let you walk out that office without suspending you."

"The thought probably crossed his mind, but he said that as long as your involvement is kept to a minimum, I can work this," he said, walking towards the bar to sit, Eric right behind him.

As Daryl took his seat, he looked around, surprised at the lack of activity around the place. He expected to see, at least, the staff prepping for that night. Guess being friends with the boss has its perks," Daryl surmised.

Eric shrugged, "It doesn't hurt."

"Guess not." With that, Daryl decided it was time to get down to business. "All right, Draven. Who is this witness, that you felt that you couldn't tell me her name over the phone?"

"Do you remember the Scavullo case about a year and a half ago?" Eric asked.

Daryl nodded and said, "Yeah, as a matter of fact, the federal courts just convicted Joseph Ferengetti on conspiracy to commit murder and several charges of money laundering. What about it?"

"Ferengetti?"

Daryl sighed, and explained, "Yeah. Ferengetti was the one who ordered the hit on the FBI agent. The Ferengetti family runs many local businesses, mostly legit stuff. The head of the family, Joseph Ferengetti, normally runs the more shady business deals with his son running the day-to-day operations of their various companies.

"Now, back to my previous question. What about the Scavullo case?" As soon as the question left his lips, the answer became obvious. "Nah, man, don't tell me..."

Eric nodded, "It's Sonia Scavullo."

"Aw, shit." Eric's brows rose at that uncharacteristic response from his police friend.

"What's the problem?"

Daryl only shook his head. "Nothing, man, it's just that if the Ferengetti family is involved, then Joey Jr. may be running things now with his father behind bars. Joey Jr. isn't exactly known for being gracious to women he likes," Daryl explained, leaving it up to Eric to get the rest.

Eric didn't like how Albrecht ended that and though he had an idea what Daryl meant, he had to ask. "Does he kill the ones he doesn't like?"

Eric watched as a shiver of disgust went through Daryl's body. "Worst. He tortures them. He's a sadistic SOB, but with Daddy backing him, he's been hard to catch."

Something inside Eric froze at the word 'torture.' His mind flashed back to the night of his death. He could hear Shelly's screams, her screams for him. Just as quickly as the memory came, another replaced it.

He saw Daryl laid up in a hospital bed, the victim of Top Dollar's attack. For what seemed like minutes, he stared at the bruises across his friend's face. Then, Eric began to feel it, the anger, rising. The longer he looked, the angrier he felt. He could feel the Crow rising, begging to take control.

Eric was close to letting it, when he heard a voice. _"Draven... Draven..."_ the voice, a male voice, called. With each outcry, the anger within him diminished and voice got louder until finally… "ERIC!" With a jolt, Eric jumped back to the present, Daryl shaking him and calling his name. Eric turned and looked into eyes filled with concern. He felt his heart start racing, something that usually only happened when he thought of Shelly. _'That was strange…'_ he thought to himself. Before he could contemplate this new sensation more, the owner of those concerned brown eyes spoke.

"You okay, man? I've been calling you for about a minute."

"No worries, man. What's the game plan?" Daryl seemed unsure as to whether to believe him or not. Eric wasn't sure what the detective saw, but Daryl finally nodded his head, apparently satisfied.

"I'm gonna try to run down Joey Jr.'s location, maybe the Feds can give me a hand with that. You… just do what you do best, but if you find them first, call. Don't get involved, okay?"

Eric agreed.

Satisfied with that, Daryl got up and headed for the door. Just as Eric reached for the phone to let Shea know he was done, a call of "Draven!" came from behind. He turned in response.

"Good luck," Daryl said. Eric nodded and the detective left. Eric made his call and exited the club.

Outside, waiting for him on one of his handle bars was his crow. The bird stared right at him and cawed. "You got something for me?" Eric asked it. It cawed at him twice more, as if to say 'Of course' and took flight. Eric ran over and quickly hopped onto his bike to follow.

— 8 —

In the hour that he'd been following his feathery guide, Eric was starting to lose his patience. The bird had led him across Port Columbia; pass the docks into what most would call a dead neighborhood. Many of the surrounding buildings were condemned or close to it. There was hardly anybody around. Even if there were people around, it was highly doubtful they'd talk about anything they saw for fear of retribution.

Eric pulled his bike up to one of the dilapidated buildings as his winged companion settled one again on a windowsill, the top floor window on the far left. Eric rushed up the steps as fast as his legs would carry him. Finally reaching the top floor, Eric got his bearings. To his left was a fire door hanging on its last hinges and to the right were four doors.

Walking as quietly as he possibly could, he disregarded the first two because the doors were completely missed. The third door yielded a bathroom, perhaps once shared by the former tenants. The fourth door, while not opened, was unlocked. He opened the door and entered the apartment. To the left was a sofa and a broken in television set. The magazines lying on the couch were recent issues, so somebody had been there. To his right was a door that more than likely led to the bedroom. He peeked in, though he saw nothing unusual at first glance, he decided to search the room thoroughly.

Having found nothing, Eric resumed his search through the apartment, looking for anything odd. He found it in a chair. The wooden chair stood alone in a corner, beside a boarded-up window. Eric found himself pulled toward it. As soon as he touched it, he was assailed by visions.

_**Sonia tied to the chair as two men came in, one holding the baby. "The boss wants to have a word with you. You will behave, won't you?" the man sneered, already knowing the answer. Sonia's head dropped in acquiescence. **_

Strangely enough, the vision shifted.

_**Sonia was still tied to the chair, but there was an additional man before her. This man was about 5'10", shorter than his companions, but his stance clearly declared 'leader'. He stepped forward and leaned in to gently caress Sonia's cheek. It was a gesture reminiscent of something more. That was before he pulled his hand back and slapped her left cheek, hard. "I'm so glad to see you again, Sonia. Did you miss me?" he asked, the slight grin on his face making it obvious that he was enjoying this. **_

_**Sonia turned her face back to him, eyes hard and silent. He laughed at that, and said, "I love those eyes, Sonia-baby. We're gonna have a lot of fun together."**_

Coming out of his vision, Eric could still feel the residual fear and pain left by the young woman. That pain and fear fueled Eric's anger. He could feel the Crow on the edge of his mind, could already see the darkening of his nails, and feel the cracking of his bones. Not knowing what else to do, Eric just stood still, giving everything in him to not let his alternate persona take control. For a moment it seemed to work until he heard the 'tick' of the hammer of a gun being pulled back and a voice asking, "Now, who the hell are you?"

"It's just some homeless bum, Eddie. You're probably gonna scare the shit out of him with that," his companion chuckled, not seeming to care about Eric's presence.

He knew that first voice. It was the man from his vision, the one who said that his 'boss' wanted to speak with Sonia. Eric's control snapped. " 'Who the hell am I?' you ask..." The body may have belonged to Eric Draven, but it was the white face and black marked eyes of the Crow that greeted the shooter. "I am retribution come on swift wings. It's time to pay for your sins," answered the Crow.

As the first bullet was fired, the Crow went into flight.

— 8 —

Frustration was becoming a common thing for Daryl Albrecht. It had taken an hour of him and his captain conferring or rather yelling with the Feds about his need to see Ferengetti, before they decided to allow Daryl access to him. That was how he ended up in his current position on the opposite side of the table from Mr. Joseph Ferengetti and his lawyer in an interview room at the Federal Penitentiary.

Ferengetti hadn't changed much since Daryl had seen him being taken away in handcuffs from his nice house. The hard lines that made up his jaw line were clean shaven. His tanned skin was without a bruise or a scratch, a rare sight for a new inmate. Even in prison, a man like Ferengetti demanded respect from others, no matter what it took to achieve it. That was something that Daryl hoped he could use to his advantage. The lawyer wasn't someone Daryl recognized, though he was probably some overpaid, out-of-towner if the Armani suit was any indicator.

"Having a good time, Ferengetti?" he asked.

Ferengetti smiled a shark's smile and replied, "As well as can be expected, detective. Please forward all questions to my attorney."

Said attorney decided to speak. "What is this about, detective?"

Daryl paid the man little mind, his focus solely on Ferengetti. "Little Joey's gone and done something really bad now that he's off the leash."

"And what would that be, detective, and how does it concern my client?"

"He ordered the kidnap of Sonia Scavullo and her kid, and in the process a federal agent was shot." Daryl watched as the shark smile start to slip, replaced by a frown. _'Interesting. He didn't know about that,'_ Daryl surmised.

The lawyer didn't look happy about that news either, but asked, "Again, how does this concern my client and you better answer, detective, or this conversation is over."

"Oh, it has nothing to do with your client. _Yet_. But when we catch Little Joey, it'll go easier for your client if we find them alive, especially when the D.A. starts dealing." Daryl then looked back at Ferengetti. "You know Junior's a coward. Who do you think he'll put this mess on?" From the look in his eyes, Daryl knew that he had him. After all, Joseph Ferengetti wasn't one to let anyone, not even his own son take advantage of him.

Ferengetti leaned over and whispered something into his attorney's ear. The lawyer replied in a similar fashion, and then looked at his client, silently asking if he was sure. Ferengetti nodded. The sour lemon expression on his lawyer's face told Daryl that he didn't like the convict's decision. Ferengetti leaned forward, elbows on the table, his hands coming together to support him chin. "What do you want to know, Detective Albrecht?"

— 8 —

Daryl left the prison in a better mood than he came in with. He had some leads on where to find Scavullo and her kid, which was more than he had an hour ago. As he started his car, giving it a moment to warm up, Daryl looked at the clock. 5:24 p.m.

He needed to check in with the Vincennes. Just as he reached for his cell, it rings. He pulls back a moment, shocked, then when it rings a second time, he answers. "Albrecht."

"Get your ass down to the Davenfield Projects now, detective!" bellowed the voice of Vincennes before the inevitable 'click' of a disconnected call. Daryl took a second to wonder if people hanging up on him were going to be a continuing theme today. _'Davenfield Projects? That's one of the places Ferengetti mentioned,'_ Daryl thought as he put on the siren. As he drove through the streets, Daryl wondered what could have gotten the lieutenant so pissed at him. Then, he remembered the one piece of the puzzle he'd forgotten about and couldn't help, but groan.

'_Damn it, Draven!'_

— 8 —

He made it to the projects just as the ambulances were pulling away, the Lieutenant standing outside, talking to Agent Donovan. As his phone call suggested, Vincennes didn't look happy. Vincennes saw him as he stepped out of his car. He hurriedly finished his conversation with Donovan and walked over to Daryl.

"What's going on, Lieutenant?" Daryl asked, effectively stopping Vincennes before he got his tirade going.

"We got an anonymous call about two men who would have some information about the Scavullo kidnap. We got here and find one man nursing two broken legs and a broken arm and the other knocked unconscious," Vincennes answered.

Daryl's heart froze. He suspected that it was Eric that had done all of this. His suspicion was confirmed as the lieutenant continued. "Before getting doped up for the pain, the one that was awake was screaming about a black-haired devil with a white face attacking them." Vincennes stopped and looked at Daryl's face and something must have shown because the lieutenant's eyes narrowed. "If I find a scratch of evidence, anything, that links Eric Draven to this, I'm hauling him in and busting you down to crossing guard." Vincennes was close enough in Daryl's personal space that Daryl swore their noses almost touched. "I don't want anymore 'mysterious devils' on this case. Rein him in and keep the chain on. Do you understand me, Albrecht?"

Daryl nodded, but refused to let the lieutenant put it all on Eric. "Yes, sir, but if Draven did do this, I can guarantee that they made the first move. You can't blame him for finishing it."

The lieutenant moved back and raised his eyebrow at the defense Daryl had made for Draven. "Perhaps, but all the same, **get him under control**. Now, tell me what you found out from Ferengetti Sr."

"Well, he gave me three places his likes to bring his 'entertainment.' This is one of them. It's where he takes them after has had his _fun_. Did they find anything?" Daryl asked.

Vincennes shook his head. "No signs of a struggle beyond those two goons. Found some dirty diapers and a rattle in the kitchen trashcan, so they had the kid with them alive." Daryl breathed a sigh. _'That's a relief,'_ he thought to himself. If there was one thing that made the job worst, it was a dead child. "What were the other two places?"

Daryl clicked his lighter opened and shut as he answered. "The first place is Joey Jr.'s yacht. Ferengetti said it's unlikely his son is there because Junior usually reserves the place for the girlfriend of the moment. The second is a room at the Montague. It's where he likes to take his plaything of the moment."

Daryl heard his lieutenant curse and couldn't help, but share the sentiment. The Montague was a Ferengetti owned hotel and casino, which meant the employees weren't going to be much help because they were either willing to take the rap for their boss or too scare to say anything.

"Okay. I'll send a couple of uniforms to make sure the yacht is vacant. Then, I'll see if our Federal friends can get a judge to sign off on a search warrant this close to close. You have your orders, detective. Get to them," Vincennes commanded.

Daryl turned and rushed back to his car. As he pulled out, he remembered those ambulances and while he didn't have a shred of pity for those thugs, he was worried. This level of violence wasn't usually Draven's style. Okay, sure. Maybe a _one_ broken leg, but never this much. The only time he could remember something like this happening was...

Two months ago. Daryl pressed his foot a little harder on the pedal.

— 8 —

It took Daryl twenty minutes to make it to Draven's building, in that time he hadn't been able to reach Eric through the cell phone Daryl had given him. Daryl knocked on the door with a shout of "Draven! You in there?" With no response, Daryl opened the unlocked door. As usual, Eric Draven was crouched in from of his window, staring out and perhaps seeing something that Daryl couldn't.

"Draven!" Daryl called again.

"What, Albrecht?" came from the crouched figure. If Daryl had been paying more attention, he may have noticed that there was something in Eric's voice that sounded off, and approached with more caution. The warning went unheeded.

" 'What?' is the right question. What the hell happened to 'not getting involved' or 'call me if you find something'?! Sending two people to the hospital isn't what I'd call lack of involvement?"

"Would you have preferred they went to the coroner?" Eric inquired.

"What-"

"Besides, they shot at me first and got what they deserved," Eric interrupted. Daryl didn't know what to say to that, but those cop warning bells were finally ringing. "Hey man. Are you all right?" Daryl asked, approaching the man more slowly.

"Fine. What's the next step?"

"We're done. Vincennes is sending the Feds to the Montague to round up Joey Jr.," Daryl explained. Vincennes was right. It was time to pull Draven from this case.

Eric finally stood up. "Little Joey better hope that the Feds get to him before I do."

"Draven, you can't be involved anymore. With Vincennes and Donovan about to make the bust, you staying out of it is the best thing for everyone now," Daryl said, trying to make his friend realize the truth.

"Sorry, not gonna happen. Joey Jr.'s got a lot to answer for," the raven-haired man replied. Daryl quickly grabbed Eric from behind in hopes of cuffing him, but soon found his hold reversed, putting him in a chokehold with Eric at his back. Daryl began to struggle with his captor. The arm around his neck tightened. Daryl stopped struggling and the pressure on his throat eased.

Message received; so, Daryl tried a different approach. "Draven..."

"Sorry. Eric Draven's not home at the moment. If you'd like to leave a message, please wait for the beep. Beep!" the Crow said in its usual taunting tone. Daryl wasn't put off by it and tried once again to reach his friend before he did something he'd regret.

"Draven, you don't want to do this!"

"Ah, but he does. That's what you don't get, Albrecht. This whole thing with Sonia has managed to push all the right buttons to piss Draven off, so here I am," the Crow explained. Despite what the Crow said, Daryl did understand, at least some of it. A person with Eric's history was bound to have some problems with this case, and after everything that has happened in the last weeks... Still, it wasn't like Eric to lose it like this, to let this half of him run loose. He had to try to talk him down.

"What's the point of all this?"

"Simple. While the cat's away, the Crow will play." The raven-haired man leaned in closer until Daryl could feel his hot breath on his right cheek. "And if you get in my way, I may just take what Draven wants so desperately, but is unwilling to take for himself," he whispered.

As if to emphasize his point, the Crow pulled Daryl closer, pressing his body—Eric's body— into Daryl's. Daryl tried to hold in the gasp of surprise as he felt the erection pressing into his back. For the second time that day, Daryl found himself speechless. But really, what could he say to that?

Then, the solid dick pressing into his back vanished along with the firm body behind him. With no arms around his neck or a body to support him, Daryl's legs failed him, making him fall to his knees. He took a couple of deep breaths and looked around, already knowing what he'd find.

Eric Draven was gone.

Daryl took a few quick breaths and made his way to his feet. There was a lot about the past few moments that didn't make sense to Daryl, and when this mess was over he was going to cuff Eric to a chair and make him explain it.

As Daryl rushed out of the left, he knew only one thing for certain; he had to stop Eric Draven, but how do you stop someone who wasn't technically alive or dead?

— 8 —

End of Chapter 3!

Once again, I'm sorry for the long (extremely long) wait. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed and who just read!

I'll try to have the next chapter up soon.

Later!


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